And Elias knows, as he finishes his yearly toast, that his grandfather didn't vanish.
Not a full one, of course. But a single, unlabeled brown bottle, its cap rusted into a coppered seal. Tucked beside it was a field journal, the pages soft as chamois. The final entry, dated September 12, 1998, read: “AMS1GN. The best I have ever made. Perhaps the best anyone has ever made. Do not drink this alone.” ams1gn ipa best